Bittersweet
by Feather
Summary: Angst///While visiting a War Hospital, Relena can finally learn a valuable lesson that she has been running from for so long...


Title: Bittersweet

Author: Feather

Genre: Angst

Category: Gundam Wing

Rating: PG

Author's notes: This is the first Gundam Wing fic I have done in a long, long time. But, alas, when my inspiration calls, I have no choice but to heed its beckoning, lest I be plagued by being unable to anything else until the idea is out of my mind. So here it is, hopefully satisfactory. Have a wonderful holiday! ~ Feather =^.^=

~~~

The dark hallway seemed to stretch on into all eternity, the bleak white walls dusted with faded stars, the Children's Wing of the hospital severely lacking any warmth. Relena walked slowly down the hall, deliberately taking a long time in the bathroom, trying to avoid all the reporters that were trying to get a glimpse of the Vice Foreign Minister. This was the first time she had visited one of the War Hospitals for children. Even though the Mariemia incident had passed, orphaned children and OZ veterans still haunted the hospitals.

Relena had shivered with an ominous apprehension when she had first heard she was scheduled to visit the Hospital. "Pagan, why must I visit such a grim place? You know very well that I have no lack of charity, yet…this is just so soon after the war. I can't visit those children, Pagan. They don't want my pity, but I know not what else to feel for them. I must ask you, as you are my old friend, to reschedule this trip."

Pagan hid a brief smile behind his hand, and turned away, busying himself with straightening the papers on the Vice-Minister's desk. "Pagan, did you even hear me? I need you to…to try to reschedule me for something else. I just can't do this. Do you know what it's like, Pagan, seeing a man just older than myself who has seen war, and has become an empty void, without a soul anymore? He has seen battle, seen many killed, and innocent blood taints his hands, yet he knew that he had to, lest he die himself. But was that worth it, he questions, for me to so selfishly kill so I should not have perished? That is the empty face of a soldier, supposedly unfeeling, yet everyday a battle rages deep within his soul, drying out all his human feelings, until he is but a vessel of nothing. I can see it in their eyes, Pagan, whenever I visit the soldiers. But imagine, all that pain, multiplied ten-fold, for a child."

"I received a letter once," she continued, toying gently with her hair, an old nervous habit that the old servant knew well. "It was from a child, just shy of ten, and can you imagine what she told me? She was in a hospital, without her parents or family, all of them killed in the war. She had no friends; her home was destroyed; her dog, her toys, everything gone. That's not the worst, though. She told me…" Relena's voice broke from emotion, but she forced herself to carry on, "She told me that she was ready to die. She had been injured when her colony was destroyed, and she said that without any home, any family, that she didn't have any reason to live anymore. She said, 'My possessions matter little, for I know without my family, my home, everything else is gone.' Pagan, no, you can't make me. Please."

Pagan looked at her, his serious eyes deeply focused on her image, the young and naïve girl once called Princess begging him not to make her go. "You underestimate me, Princess," he said slowly. "I have many more moons than you, I have seen more than my fair share of evils on the world, many wars have passed in my time here in this life. And I know, it causes you and all others great pain. But without this pain, it will remain for some other time, and I cannot bear to leave you to such a hard lesson some other time. Even if it was within my power to let you reschedule, I would not. You must, Relena, for your people and for yourself."

Relena recalled the memory, bringing it to the top of her mind as she listlessly signed herself in and walked down the hall, the echo of her heels in the near-silent hall bringing her back. The words, though, still rolled around her mind, "You must Relena, for your people and for yourself."

The nurse, a pretty woman of twenty or so, led her into a room. Relena thanked her silently, with a brief nod, and the woman smiled back. The room, Relena supposed, had once held some cheer, but with the passing age of lost hope, the colors had faded to a mere shadow of their former glory. But Relena focused her attention on the bed, a slight figure of a little boy.

Relena caught herself smiling, though she knew it was no funny matter. The boy, around six, had a cute face, his dark hair tumbling into his brilliant blue eyes, a small scowl played upon his lips. "Hello," Relena managed to say, as she remembered her formal manners, "How are you today?"

The boy regarded her with a look, one that resembled Heero's. But then, a small smile tugged at the corner of his lips, and he answered "Fine, thanks," quietly.

Relena was at a loss of what to say. She looked at her hands, neatly folded on her lap, and a chart at the foot of the bed caught her eye. Though she was no medical doctor, she could see that the child was terminally ill. Those eyes which one day fair ladies might have tried to drown themselves in, the scowl which one day could have rivaled Heero's, all of that was lost now. She bit her lip, fighting the tears that threatened to fall from her eyes. I have to be strong, she thought, if not for me for him.

"They told me that you were sick," Relena said, lying so to continue the conversation, "And I wanted to see you." The boy's eyes widened with surprise a look of wonderment passing across his face.

"Really?" he asked, "Just to see me?" Relena smiled at his shock, laughing quietly.

"Yes, I came here to see you." She was rewarded with a grin.

"Mom says…" the boy stopped, on the verge of tears, "Mom used to say that you were a great Princess with the kindest soul ever. I didn't believe it, until now." Relena almost broke with those words, but she knew that the boy needed her, her support and comfort, and she could not cry.

"Well, that was very nice of your mother, but I think that you're nicer," she said shyly, trying not to be to buoyed by the compliment. The boy smiled again, his sorrow briefly replaced by delighted surprise and joy.

"I'm bad, though," he said, crying a little, the tears silently flowing down his face.

"What makes you say that?" Relena asked, in utter bewilderment of what caused him to say that.

"I did something wrong, because God made me sick, made my family go away." He continued to cry. Relena got up and moved over towards him, her heart breaking with every step. Softly, she cupped his face in her hands. He whimpered at her touch, warm and comforting like his late mother's own.

"No, God isn't punishing you," Relena said quietly, letting go as he sank back into the pillows. "He gives illness and sorrow to those He loves most, for he knows that they can bear it, they can beat it, triumph over it, because He knows, knows that they will take the pain rather than someone who cannot. He loves you. That's why He wants you with him so soon." He smiled.

"Really?" he asked, his breath growing labored, as he sunk deeper and deeper into relevance of pain. The life flew from his tiny body, and at last he was free of his sorrow, joining his parents again, his family. His lips still smiled, relieved with the knowledge that he would go to Heaven.

"Really," she said, whispering as the doctors poured into the room with the shrill beep that issued from the monitors, and then carted away the lifeless body.

Pagan met her at the door. Her whole body felt frail. It's as though I've been running from this for so long, and now it's finally caught up with me. She passed through the interviews dreamily, entering her room at the end of the day very tired.

She collapsed on the bed. And she cried.

~~~

Closing Notes: This was easier as I wrote, the words flowing from my fingertips without much thought. This is, as far as I know, a completely original idea, though all work has been done conscious of other author's works. Have a wonderful day! ~ Feather =^. ^=

Disclaimers: I do not claim to own Gundam Wing or any related copyrighted works.


End file.
